On earth myself, my heart in Eden dwelt,
Lost in sweet Lethe every other care,
As my live frame I felt
To marble turn, watching that wonder rare;
When old in years, but youthful still in air,
A lady briefly, quietly drew nigh,
And thus beholding me,
With reverent aspect and admiring eye,
Kind offer made my counsellor to be:
"My power," she said, "is more than mortals know—
Lighter than air, I, in an instant, make
Their hearts exult or ache,
I loose and bind whate'er is seen below;
Thine eyes, upon that sun, as eagles', bend,
But to my words with willing ears attend.
"The day when she was born, the stars that win
Prosperity for man shone bright above;
Their high glad homes within
Each on the other smiled with gratulant love;
Fair Venus, and, with gentle aspect, Jove
The beautiful and lordly mansions held:
Seem'd as each adverse light
Throughout all heaven was darken'd and dispell'd,
The sun ne'er look'd upon a day so bright;
The air and earth rejoiced; the waves had rest
By lake and river, and o'er ocean green:
'Mid the enchanting scene
One distant cloud alone my thought distress'd,
Lest sometime it might be of tears the source
Unless kind Heaven should elsewhere turn its course.
"When first she enter'd on this life below,
Which, to say sooth, not worthy was to hold,
'Twas strange to see her so
Angelical and dear in baby mould;
A snowy pearl she seem'd in finest gold;
Next as she crawl'd, or totter'd with short pace,
Wood, water, earth, and stone
Grew green, and clear, and soft; with livelier grace
The sward beneath her feet and fingers shone;
With flowers the champain to her bright eyes smiled;
At her sweet voice, babbling through lips that yet
From Love's own fount were wet,
The hoarse wind silent grew, the tempest mild:
Thus clearly showing to the dull blind world
How much in her was heaven's own light unfurl'd.
"At length, her life's third flowery epoch won,
She, year by year, so grew in charms and worth,
That ne'er, methinks, the sun
Such gracefulness and beauty saw on earth;
Her eyes so full of modesty and mirth,
Music and welcome on her words so hung,
That mute in her high praise,
Which thine alone may sound, is every tongue:
So bright her countenance with heavenly rays,
Not long thy dazzled vision there may rest;
From this her fair and fleshly tenement
Such fire through thine is sent
(Though gentler never kindled human breast),
That yet I fear her sudden flight may be
Too soon the cause of bitter grief to thee."
This said, she turn'd her to the rapid wheel
Whereon she winds of mortal life the thread;
Too true did she reveal
The doom of woe which darken'd o'er my head!
A few brief years flew by,
When she, for whom I so desire to die,
By black and pitiless Death, who could not slay
A fairer form than hers, was snatch'd away!
Macgregor.